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by ao3afterdark



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: /insert that one coffee commercial, F/M, Incest, Modern AU, Parent/Child Incest, intersex bethany, transgender malcolm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 05:15:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ao3afterdark/pseuds/ao3afterdark
Summary: A sequel of sorts to "There's a Snake in my Boot" wherein Malcolm Hawke sends dirty texts to his daughter Bethany during the day to tease and frustrate her, knowing there's nothing she can do about it for hours.





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Bethany’s phone chimed gently only half an hour into the day’s latest practice exam in her SAT prep class, but it wasn't until the teacher had turned the other way to help another student that she dared risk glancing at her phone. When she did, she nearly choked. There, for just anyone to see if they happened to look over at the right (or wrong) moment, was a picture of her father with his legs bent, exposing himself to the camera. A very recognizably familiar dildo was pushed halfway into his cunt, slim fingers wrapped around the base where it disappeared offscreen.

Bethany shifted in her seat with a quiet, unhappy noise. She was wearing a delicate, floral patterned skirt today, and she could feel it tent around her growing erection with every passing second. She didn't dare adjust herself, not surrounded as she was on every side, nor was she willing to possibly risk drawing attention to herself by going to the bathroom. She was trapped, as he very well knew, she thought with a scowl. He was doing this on purpose, trying to-

Another picture loaded onscreen before she could complete the thought, this one with a tiny arrow in the corner that showed it was a video. She couldn't press play, now now, but just looking at the still preview image of the dildo driven into her father to the base and a half-caught angle of her father’s head thrown back on the pillow, face flushed and mouth dropped open, made Bethany whine aloud.

The teacher moved ahead of her, started to turn around, and Bethany swiftly turned her hand to tuck her phone back under the drape of her crimson shawl across the edge of the desk. “Sorry,” Bethany whispered, a vibrant flush working down her cheeks to where her breasts peeked through the keyhole opening in her blouse.

“Be respectful to the other students,” the teacher told her sternly, pointing back down at the test paper.

Bethany tried, she did, but was unable to hold herself back from squirming, pressing her thighs tightly together in an attempt to ease the ache between her legs. It only served to bring her legs rubbing against her cock, making her erection that much worse.

It was impossible to ignore, and equally impossible to concentrate. She started missing easy questions, ones she'd never have gotten wrong at any other time. Embarrassment warred with the pounding of her heart from building excitement, until finally she had no choice but to raise her hand to excuse herself to use the bathroom.

She bolted out of the classroom almost before the words to accept were out of the teacher’s mouth. She hurried through the halls, hoping against hope not to run into anyone and embarrass herself. Somehow, miraculously, no one saw her. She thanked the maker and Andraste and every single divine she could think of as she locked herself into the bathroom.

The second the stall door closed behind her, she ground the heel of her hand into her insistent erection. Bethany groaned and bucked into her hand, her head lolling back on her shoulders against the stall door. She knew she wouldn't have time to see to it properly, enough that even touching it this much was torture, rather than a relief.

Her phone chimed again just as she started to thrust a hand down her skirt anyway, and she fumbled for her phone with her free hand. “Whatever you're doing, stop” said the first text, and she grimaced that he somehow always knew. Until, that was, she saw the second text, which was a picture her father had somehow taken from behind, of him bent over and stretching his cunt open for the camera. Another arrived within seconds. “Hurry home,” was all it said, and she let out another, louder whine, and sagged back against the door. It would be a very long four hours until it was time to go home.

And it was. Every second seemed a small eternity, every minute a thousand years.

When it finally time to go home at last, Bethany barely took the time to close the front door behind her, just marched straight up to her smirking father where he stood half dressed, phone in hand.

“Something wrong?” He asked innocently. This was an old game of his, one he hadn't taken out to dust off in some time, but she remembered her role well enough that she didn't hesitate to grasp a hand tight in his hair and push him headfirst over the arm of the couch so that his ass was in the air. She didn't even take the time to undress, just shoved clothes aside. Her cock sprang free of her underclothes, angry and red and weeping precum that smeared across Malcolm’s ass as she hastily lined herself up, and then she was shoving inside him in one hard, fast thrust that left them both moaning.

Bethany hauled back on her father’s hair, using it as leverage to push him off of her cock and then pull him back down to the base in one swift movement. She was gasping ragged panted breaths, plunging in and out of his cunt as fast as she could, faster.

“Is this what you wanted?” She asked between grit teeth, knowing he loved hearing her say such things. It had taken her months, nearly a year, to work up to it, but now that she had, she got a kick out of it too. Not just out of seeing --and feeling-- his reactions, either, but from getting that little thrilling surge from doing something so unlike her. “You want this? Want to be spread wide on my cock?” She readjusted herself, grasping the bend of his elbow with her free hand before giving it a yank, burying herself balls deep inside of him again and again and again. “You slut. Teasing me all day, your own daughter. You deserve this, you-”

He clenched tight around her, making her see stars. Bethany let out a strangled curse and had to bend low over her father, gasping out his name as she redoubled her efforts, pounding into him hard and fast. “You feel so good on my cock,” she breathed into his ear, shivering at the delicious friction, at his every twitch and whine as her balls slapped against his tender cunt with every thrust. “Take it, take me, please!”

The more frantic she got, the louder he moaned and the harder he bucked back into her. He worked a shaking hand beneath himself between thrusts, gasping out her name on a strangled high note as his hand met his clit. In the heat of the moment, she used his name without even thinking about it too, half sobbing it as she chased her climax to the end.

As heat boiled up from the base of his spine Malcolm started to babble and plead, bucking back hard in an attempt to control the pace, but Bethany was having none of it. She tightened her hand into a fist in his hair and around his elbow and held him in place and went exactly as hard and fast as she wanted. She bore down on him fast, faster, until at last her hips stuttered unevenly against him, burying herself as deep inside him as she could get as she started to come with a keening cry of his name.

Malcolm kept working his hand over his clit as Bethany came down, panting, inching himself back and forth on her softening cock until his own climax overtook him and he came to shuddering release with a sharp cry. His back tensed and bowed, jerking down onto Bethany’s length so that they both moaned ragged sobs for air.

Time slipped away for a little while, whiting out at the edges. When it came back to them, Bethany had sagged half across Malcolm’s back, one hand curled loosely around his waist to tuck him closer against her. “You're still an ass,” she muttered into his hair, and snorted laughing when he wiggled the area in question.

“If you want to see just how much of an ass I am, there's always round two…”


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